Stardust
by DarkSwaan
Summary: Stardust AU - Regina casts a spell that drops a star from the heavens, a lonely soul in the darkness of the forest. Rated M for eventual violence and adult themes.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

It's a cold room, candles flickering from wrought iron lanterns mounted between the heavy tapestries hanging on the stonewalls. An ornate chandelier, black and elegant in its twisting leaves and thorns, hangs low from the ceiling casting dancing shadows along the floors. Beneath it is a coffin, metalwork vines curling over the frosted glass surface, a light glow emanating from within.

The witch skims her fingers over the detailing, smiling. Her dark eyes are soft and she leans down to press a gentle kiss to the cold glass. Her love is encased there, her last memory of happiness. And for so long, so very long, she's been desperately searching for a way to bring him back to her. The years had stretched by, desolate and without hope, but she had searched, always searched despite it. There had been no spells, no science that she could find to return his life to him, to make his heart beat again beneath his flesh. She had been so alone, so lost in the absence of his warmth.

But there were whispers, tales of an ancient spell meant to bring the dead back. And she had found them, hunted them down through legend and time, and clawed away the veils that hid it from the world. So she stands there, gazing at the chiseled jaw, the strong full lips, the soft brush of lashes against his cheeks, and smiles, because hope has found her again.

Hope in the darkest of places.

She turns and walks briskly out of the room, dark dress fanning out like mist behind her. Her footfalls echo loudly, wind whistling through the castle as she storms upwards, spiraling staircases and long corridors, until she reaches the atrium, the highest point in her palace. Her hand stretches out, long fingers strained outward and fire forms, thick and serpentine, coiling around her forearm before shooting out to the floor, a blaze igniting as sparks fly around her. Everything is red and gold and brilliant and she moves to a chest placed against the wall.

Inside are herbs and spices, ingredients of varying origin needed for her plan. One by one she takes them out and drops them in the fire, which hisses and cracks as it accepts the tributes. There is a cough from behind her and she turns slowly, lips stretched wide in her glee. In the doorway stands an old man; back hunched slightly from years of years of service, hair a wispy white that frames his square face. His eyes are deep-set and dark, brows furrowed in concern as he watches her. His wrings his hands together nervously, the leathery flesh twisting. He takes a hesitant step forward, and then another, searching the witch's face.

"My dear, please. You don't have to do this." His voice is worn and scratched, a deep rumbling sound she's grown so used to over the years. She walks over to him, her smile now sad as she raises her hands to cup his face in a tender gesture.

"It's the only way to get him back. You have to understand that." One of his weathered hands comes up to settle over hers, the other moving to brush affectionately over her cheek. He's trembling, but that's become a common occurrence in his old age. Nonetheless he works to keep himself steady, tries to reassure her as best he can.

"You can always move on, Regina. You can be _happy_."

"Oh daddy," she sighs. His eyes go wide and he looks down to see her left arm buried deep in his chest, a harsh pressure around his heart and then suddenly he's screaming, pain spiking through his nerve endings as he collapses to his knees. She looks at the pulsing organ in her grasp then back to him, watching as the light fades slowly from his gaze, expression frozen in a mask of horror. "I am going to be happy."

Regina turns, leaving the crumpled corpse behind her, and holds the heart close to her chest. She feels the sting of tears pricking at her eyes, the warm slide as one escapes down her flesh. She leans to place a kiss to her final ingredient, the heart of the thing she loves the most. Her voice is soft, a broken whisper.

"I'm sorry daddy. I love you."

And with that she drops it into the flames. The fire burns bright, smoke filling the air with green and purple lightning dancing along inside. Like a dragon, it circles the room slowly, turns upward towards the clear night sky, and shoots up. She watches as it collides high in the heavens, a bright, blinding light exploding wide as a star burns and falls. It blazes a trail through the darkness, dims the moon's light in its wake and crashes in the forest.

The castle shakes, the land shivers, and the witch smiles again. The star has fallen past her borders, but no matter. She will send someone to fetch it for her. Her tears are dry, her eyes alight with anticipation and she feels the laugh bubble up her throat, spilling into the cold air around her in triumph.

"Soon, my love. Soon we will be together again."

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	2. Chapter 1

**Sorry this took so long! I was trying to figure out the best method for me to plot this story out so I don't end up dropping it, but I think I got it. Anyways, this one is really short sorry! I hope you enjoy regardless!**

Chapter 1

The world is black in a way that is entirely too unfamiliar. She groans, eyes fluttering open to the sight of stars high above her.

"How is that…?"

The wind picks up and a chill runs down her spine, a violent shiver that causes her teeth to chatter. She pushes herself up, muscles sore and tenses, and inspects the surroundings. She appears to be in some sort of crater, the burnt branches of trees still glowing near the lip. The earth itself is warm, which only serves to draw her attention further to the nip in the air. It's solid, as though packed down forcefully and she lets out another groan, hand coming up to rub at her temple in irritation.

"Great… Just great."

Standing slowly, she brushes off the stray pebbles still stuck to her, long pale waves of hair falling past her shoulders like a curtain. Her skin starts to sear at the inside of her wrist and a gasp is torn from her throat. She looks down to see a seven pointed star burned into the flesh. She grimaces and looks up at the tree line peeking over the edge.

-/-

The spyglass slides shut with a soft click, tucked away again into the leather pocket of it's owner. He looks out over the railing of the ship, down at the stretch of forest below as the wind picks up, an unmistakable chill in the air to signal the coming of winter. Distantly, he decides he should restock the blankets soon if he wants the crew to survive 'till spring, but his focus is still on the smoke curling it's way up through the trees and into the sky.

"Cap'n. Are we goin' after the star?"

The captain rubs the stubble on his jaw in thought, looks back at the stout, portly crewman wringing his red knit cap between his sweaty hands. Stars _are_ rather valuable, but often more trouble to get than plundering merchant airships. He considers his options, all the while watching the smoke.

"Aye, Mr. Smee. Set a course for Ostia first."

Smee scurries away to shout out the orders to the rest of the men and soon the _Jolly Roger_ is making a slow turn, nose pointing towards the faint glimmer of the sky port on the horizon, just south of the smoking forest.

He considers the black cloud as it rises from the vegetation. He needs the money, and at this time of year most of the merchant ships are already docked for the season. A trip to Ostia will reveal more information on the fallen star, as well as the status of the ship's winter supplies. Regardless, a fat sum of money is just what the men need right now. And should the other stories he's heard be true, Captain Jones will have what he needs to complete his life's goal at last.

Perhaps he may even survive it.

-/-

The great and terrible Evil Queen strides into her vault, the eerie red glow a comfort to her nerves as she browses the shelves for the perfect specimen. She is so close now, so very close to bringing Daniel back to life and her entire being is filled with an insurmountable sense of anxiety at finally having the end in sight. Years upon years of searching, weeks of preparation and now she's finally got one on the ground, confused and alone and so very ripe for the picking.

Her fingers slip over the raised metal carving of a wolf and she stops, a slow wicked grin spreading across her blood red lips in satisfaction.

_Yes. This one shall do nicely._

She pulls open the drawer, the rhythmic thump of it's contents growing louder as she dips a hand in and wraps greedy fingers around a warm, soft muscle. The heart stutters, speeding up it's beat as she brings it close to her mouth, whispered commands floating through space to it's owner and seeding into his mind, roots expanding and taking hold. Regina takes a small velvet sack off of her belt and slips the still beating heart inside, tying the ends together and patting it affectionately as she closes the large stone doors, hurrying up the stairs to _his_ room.

He is just as she left him, frozen in time under her enchantment. She bends to place a chaste kiss on the glass over his head.

"I love you, Daniel."

-/-

Emma darts behind the bushes just outside the clearing. There's a small cottage there, sweet pale smoke rising from the stone chimney. A man stands outside, axe in hand, chopping firewood for the coming winter. The muscles in his arms twist and flex as he lifts the instrument again and again, dropping it with precision, a loud _crack _resonating with each chop. The man stops, axe cleanly slicing through the last log as he buries the blade in the stump and begins to pile the wood. As he makes his way inside, Emma slips forward, dashing straight for the laundry line running between the house and a far tree and snatches some clothing.

Retreating back to the safety of the woods, she examines her findings; coming face to face with something she's only ever seen from afar and certainly never understood how to use – a stiff dark corset with laces running up the front. In addition she's grabbed a long skirt, a mahogany cloak embroidered with fauna and a cream colored blouse she assumes goes beneath the corset.

She slips each piece on one by one, struggling with the strings of the corset for a while until it's tight enough not to fall off, but loose enough so she can still breath. Finally, she drapes the cloak about her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her hair and grinning in pride. She's seen these humans wrestle with these things for hours, maids and servants there to lend a helping hand and still have issue, but here she is, fully dressed, with no one to help her at all.

It's silly, this little moment of happiness, because her main concern is still getting home.

It's a few more hours of trekking barefoot through the woods until she comes upon a dirt road. A trickle of sunlight is starting to make it's way across the horizon so she settles for finding a nice secluded spot between a large oak tree and a lining of thick bushes as cover as she curls up over her cloak, half the fabric draped over her shoulder and legs, and dozes off so sleep.

She wakes up to someone shaking her.

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